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Chris. (Advancing, and trying to stop her mouth). Don't!

Ulrica (Breaking from him, without seeing his face). Aunt! come back, Aunt!

Countess. Not I, I promise you.

[Without. Chris. Thank ye-thank ye kindly, Aunt! (fanning himself with his hat)-and if this be your style of providing for your family, thank you also for disowning the relationship; but you, Cousin, though you are going to be married to a man of rank, won't you take pity on your old play-fellow, Christopher, who having heard of Aunt's promotion, came, in hopes of getting into high life; and who certainly will get into high life (pulling up his collar), if you don't keep him from being caught, rack'd, and tortur'd by Oh! Lord!

Ulrica. Christopher! cousin Christopher! and come to see his aunt, the Countess! Very well, Sir; you didn't come to see Ulrica, then?

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Chris. Eh!

Ulrica. You didn't come to see her who's already caught-lock'd up-because she don't choose an unequal marriage; and who, notwithstanding her dress and appearance, is the same simplehearted creature you left her, Sir; but since you're alter'd, Sir, since you forget your former humble

Chris. (Half crying). I don't-I'm as simple as ever! and if I thought you were not jokingbut you are looking close in her face)-yes-no → (Ulrica smiles) she's the same kind-heartedUlrica. I am ;-and were we but in our native. village, Christopher

Chris. We'd send for a Priest, buy a little land, make money, make love, and have such a happy fire-side!

DUETT-CHRISTOPHER, ULRICA.

Chris. When a little farm we keep,
And have little girls and boys,
With little pigs and sheep,

To make a little noise

Oh! what happy, merry days we'll see!

Ubrica. Then we'll keep a little maid,

And a little man beside;

And a little horse and pad,

To take a little ride,

With the children sitting on our knee.

Chris. The boys I'll conduct,
Ulrica. The girls I'll instruct;
Chris. In reading I'll engage,

Each son is not deficient ;

Ulrica. In music, I presage,

Each girl is a proficient.

Chris. Now, boy, your A, B, C!

Ulrica. Now, girl, your solfa!

[Ulrica is supposed to teach a Girl to sing, and Christopher to teach a Boy to read.]

Both. When a little farm we keep, &c.

Chris. Charming! delightful!

Ulrica. Very only you forget one thing-you forget we are both lock'd up; and if aunt finds us together, it will make bad so much worse. Mercy on me! how could you get in here?

Chris. Mercy on me! how am I to get out here and my time's up with the Count! Ulrica. What Count?

Chris. Why, mother, who formerly got this

ungrateful aunt made housekeeper to old Count Roland, you know, has lately got me into the young Count's retinue; and he is killing game in the neighbouring woods, and I'm-(noise of unlocking the door)-killed myself! Oh, Lord! there's only one chance - aunt can't know meshe hasn't seen me since I became a man; but, then, you cousin!--if I am a man! shall I, like a base, selfish -No-it mounts!-the Roland blood mounts high within me!

[Noise. Urica. Hush! I rely on him they select to be my husband-his heart's elsewhere-and by securing your own escape now, you may hereafter effect mine. (Stage-door opens.) The Baron ! our enraged host!-Now, what's to be done now! [Christopher retires up the Stage.

Enter Baron RAVENSBURG and OLIVER.

Oliver I tell you, my Lord, I'm so sure Agnes will be found innocent-but I'm silent.

Baron. Be silent, then!-And for you, Madam, I came to tell you that the Priest is sent for, and my son is sent for; and I shan't stir out of this room, till I witness the glorious union of the Rolands and the Ravensburgs!

Ulrica (Archly). Your son! your son is absent, then?

Baron. He is; but the Countess has undertaken to see him brought home; and I don't know who she alludes to, but it seems she talks of catching more troublesome people. (Here Ulrica makes signs to Christopher to be gone, and he steals towards the Stage-door, behind the Baron and Oliver.) And so, Oliver! bring me a chair, old

Oliver-(Oliver gives him one)-for here Fll sit.(Christopher opens the door, and is going, when the Baron hears him.)-Why, what's that? (In his agitation, Christopher turns sharply round, and faces the Baron, holding the door wide open in his hand)-Zounds! where do you come from? Chris. Come! I come from- [Amazed. Baron. Aye, what brings you, Sir? And don't-don't stand staring there with the door open. Either (beating his cane violently against the floor)-either come in, or go out.

Chris. Out, if you please, Sir.

[Exit. Baron (Pulling him back). Stop-this won't do-How came you in my house?

.

Chris. (Confused). Came! why I came from young Count Roland, Sir.

Baron. Oh, you want to see the Countess, then?

Chris. Thank ye, I have seen her; and as her answer isn't at all satisfactory, I hope shortly to return, and take something much more satisfactory.

[Looking significantly at Ulrica, and going. Ulrica nods in return.

Oliver (Coming between him and the door). I dare say you do; but-he! he he! the little old butler will prevent you. My Lord, just now, instead of a message from Count Roland, this fellow talk'd of your keeping low company.(Christopher shakes his head to stop him).-You did you actually hinted, that one of our fine ladies was no better than old Winifred Winbuttle, a housekeeper

Baron. Dolt! Blockhead! (To Christopher) when, except this untitled girl, there is not one plain lady, no, nor one real gentlewoman in the

whole party; and she, as heiress, and sole relation of the high-born Countess Roland

Chris. The sole relation of who?

Baron. The high-born Countess Roland! Chris. (Eagerly). What! you havn't heardthe heiress dare not even hint-Oh ho! (Looking at Ulrica, who beckons him to go). But I won't stay, else I could tell you, that if that if you and your son had purses as long as the dead pedigree of the Ravensburgs, they wou'dn't be half long enough for the live. pedigree of the high-born Countess Roland! and as her relations will shortly be yours, I'll send express for some few dozens from Franconia, who'll now have two strings to their bow; for if Cousin Winifred Winbuttle don't keep open house for them, ecod! Cousin Baron Ravensburg must. And so, yours my Lord, yours Madam: and there-(whispering Oliver)—there's a Roland for your Oliver, my little twaddling old butler. [Exit, Baron. Send express for a few dozens! Without there! Stop that scoundrel! Ulrica, what is all this? Speak-I insist on an explanation.

Ulrica. So do I, Sir-I insist on an explanation, and I will have one, if I follow that impudent fellow to the world's end.

Baron. Stay where you are.

please.

In, in, if you

Ulrica (Trying to pass him). Out, out, if you please. (Mimicking Christopher).

Baron. Oliver, be you her guard, whilst I pursue this false, this infamous

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Ulrica (Getting between him and the door). Stay.

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